


The Fucking Easter Bunny

by Sanguinifex (Eros_Scribens)



Series: Ruining Holidays [1]
Category: Teen Titans Go!
Genre: Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Stuffing, Bondage, Crack, Do not put any of these things up your ass, Dubious Consent, Easter Eggs, Enemas, Extremely Gross, Food Sex, Furry, Holiday Decorations, Horror, Humor, I had a horrible idea so I wrote it, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Object Insertion, Other, Oviposition, Rimming, Sex Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 01:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eros_Scribens/pseuds/Sanguinifex
Summary: Be careful about saying yes to the Easter Bunny.





	The Fucking Easter Bunny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transarobi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transarobi/gifts).



> Transarobi is like 80% responsible for this. Total crack. Have fun. Don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> Apologies to anyone who is offended by the depiction of quasi-religious figures in this fic.

“Do you want an easter egg?”

It seemed like an innocent enough question. Sure, the kid’s face seemed a bit off, but that was cheap costumes for you. Under the horribly missewn padding, the child seemed to be about five. Actually, a bit short for five, but they were speaking too well to be any younger. He wasn’t much for holidays, but best case, he got free candy, and worst case, he’d pretend to eat the play-doh or weird rock or whatever and then throw it out when the kid looked the other way.

“Sure,” he said, holding out his hand.

The world glitched.

He was tied to something…orange, he could see out of the corner of his eyes if he turned his head, bound head to foot like Gulliver among the Lilliputians, with…was that silly string? It looked like silly string. Silly string was breakable, though, easily breakable, like spiderwebs (and about as gross). This had absolutely zero give as he pulled on it, like plastic baling twine, but it was pink and green and yellow and purple like Easter silly string, and it was still repulsively sticky-soft, where it wound about his bare arms and wrists—it was warm for April, and he had worn short sleeves.

Laughter came from somewhere near him, and the child from earlier came into view. Only, that really wasn’t a child. He had assumed that all that was a mask and a spandex suit with horrible padding, but no, that was the creature’s fur and skin. He did not know what this was—surely not an actual rabbit—but it must have been what was responsible for his current predicament, why he was bound and tied to…oh Lord, was it actually a carrot? He managed to turn his head a little further than before, enough to see the smooth yet slightly dulled skin of what was definitely a carrot. At least it had been cleaned—if it had ever grown in the dirt at all, and not simply been magicked out of thin air. If this creature could tie him up in an instant with magically unbreakable silly string, surely it was capable of that.

The creature stopped laughing just long enough to address him. “So you wanted an easter egg,” it said. “Aren’t you in luck! You don’t just get one easter egg, you get all of them! It’s been so long since I had a willing recipient.”

Willing? He supposed he had agreed to take an “easter egg,” and in fairytales that would certainly count as magically valid, but this was real life, and agreeing to receive one piece of Easter candy of dubious provenance didn’t count as agreeing to whatever the fuck this was. Maybe the candy had been drugged, and this was a hallucination, and that would honestly be the best outcome, at this point, even if he woke up missing a kidney (because why else would you have a kid handing out drugged Easter candy?). But the silly string and the vegetable beneath him felt very real. His leg was starting to go dead. That never happened in dreams, even the ones where you woke up and your leg actually had gone dead. He struggled against the “silly string” some more and tried to yell, but found himself unable to speak above a low, moaning sound.

“Of course, you can’t take my real eggs right away. We’ll have to start small.” The thing grinned, holding up what looked like a string threaded with easter-egg shaped beads, about the size of Cadbury cream eggs, but bright and glistening instead of purple foil. “And really, we should clean you out first. Strawberry soda should do it.”

Clean him out? Huh?

Putting the string of easter egg beads down, the creature—the Easter Bunny, he was calling him, for lack a better term—fumbled around out of sight for a few moments, and then popped back into view holding a giant syringe full of clear pinkish-red liquid. Really, a truly giant syringe, it looked like about half a gallon. He didn’t know syringes came that big. For some reason, it seemed to be absent a needle, though the place where one should attach looked oddly elongated. That seemed good, at least? But if it wasn’t being injected, what the fuck was the syringe for?

He didn’t have time to think about it more after that, because the “Easter Bunny” ripped open his pants.

“Tsk, tsk, can’t do anything with those in the way,” it said, ripping open his underpants as well. It was not using scissors; it was simply that strong, pulling his tighty-whities until they ripped at the seams. He had only just time to be alarmed at this, before the Easter Bunny took its syringe and jammed the blunt tip into his ass.

He had never thought of his ass as something things went into, instead of out of. The only time he had ever explored it at all was to put antibiotic ointment on it, that time it had started bleeding after a particularly bad case of food poisoning. But now, not only was the tip of a syringe jammed into his asshole, but then a second later the Easter Bunny depressed the plunger, filling his large intestine with two liters of strawberry soda.

It was cold. It was carbonated. It was 68 ounces of bulky, heavy, space-taking-up fluid. He attempted to scream as the cramps hit him, but the Easter Bunny’s magic (or whatever it was) turned it into a moan. He could only writhe against the horrid silly string as he attempted to expel the fluid, but the syringe was still there, held firmly by deceptively tiny paws, forcing the entire volume of the liquid to stay inside him. Eventually, after several long minutes, the bunny finally withdrew the syringe. He let out a long, resounding, strawberry-scented fart, followed immediately by an explosion of disgusting, sticky fluid.

“There, that’s better! But you’ve messed up this lovely carrot. Got to wash that off now.” The Easter bunny rinsed down his victim and the carrot with more soda, and then dried them with parti-colored easter grass.

“Now to get you ready for the practice eggs!” The Easter Bunny showed him a package of lamb-shaped butter. “This should ease the way.” It dug its paws into the package, turning the lamb’s head into a glop, and smeared the stuff over and into his asshole.

To his horror, he began to feel pleasure at the stimulus. Why was he liking this? It must be magic or drugs or something. Yes, the stimulation was most of it, but shouldn’t disgust cancel that out? He was getting fingered by the fucking Easter Bunny. That should be something that killed all boners for the rest of his life. And yet, here he was, getting harder and harder with each passing second.

It had to be something in that injected soda. It had to.

The Easter Bunny, noticing his state, gave his cock a quick lick, and he shuddered and yet got even harder at the feeling of that rough tongue on his genitals.

“Mmm, I do like the taste of strawberry on a man,” the bunny chuckled. “Makes it like a stick of candy. And, as you know, I’m all about candy.” It held up the egg beads. “These? Candy. And they’re going up your ass.”

He was crying, now, at the thought of having solid foreign objects in him, and somehow without deflating his accursed erection at all. He was not enjoying this. He did not want to enjoy this. And yet, he could not deny the waves of abhorrent pleasure coursing through him at the creature’s words. Soda. Bunny spit. It had to be.

The creature held the first egg-bead to his stretched, buttered asshole and pressed. Slowly, it slid in till it passed the zenith of its width, and then it was sucked in with a pop. He bucked his hips as much as he could within his restraints, taken by surprise at the unexpected and taboo pleasure. The bunny repeated it with the second bead, and the third, and with each one he writhed and panted at the stimulation as the egg-shaped beads slid past his sensitive rim. He counted forty of the unbearable, unwanted bursts of pleasure, and then they stopped. Funny, the string of beads had not looked that long.

He was left gasping, on the verge of orgasm. The bunny pulled away from his ass, and did—nothing.

“Let’s just sit here for a while, shall we? Got to let those do their thing.”

Their thing? For a few minutes, as he sat there and worried, the eggs did nothing. Then, the sense of fullness decreased slightly, and he felt a thin trickle of something running out of his asshole.

“Ah, the chocolate’s finally melting.” The Easter Bunny leaned over and lapped at his asshole, and he scream-moaned and thrashed in his bonds. “Tastes much better than what usually comes out of there. It won’t all come out, of course. It’s the perfect lubricant and nutritional solution for my real eggs!” It now pulled the string out of his clenched ass, and, now free of the candy-coated chocolate eggs, it came loose, making him moan in earnest at the sensation of the string passing through his asshole.

Reaching down again, the Easter Bunny brought up a brightly-colored tapered plastic funnel-like thing of gigantic proportions. It was shiny and lavender-purple, textured in imitation of a woven basket save for the first few inches at the bottom, with whimsical pictures of eggs, chicks, and bunnies painted brightly and crudely on the sides. The inside, what he could see of it as the creature waved it about, was smooth. Then, it picked up a wire egg basket of brightly colored, slimy eggs, and set it on his stomach. It stuck fast to the sticky string there.

“Don’t try to buck it off,” warned the Easter Bunny. “It won’t work, I'll be able to tell the difference from natural reactions, and I’ll be so very sad about you trying to break our deal.” It took three eggs, and stuffed them into the funnel. Then, it inserted its rounded tip into his ass.

Having been neglected for so long, he could not help but voice his pleasure as his ass was stimulated once more. The restrictions of the enchantment or whatever that was on his voice allowed him to make whatever erotic sounds he wanted, he discovered, as long as they were not outright screams and were not displeasure. And then the Easter Bunny started to push its eggs into his colon, and he tried to scream in ecstasy, even knowing the limits of the enchantment.

Dozens of eggs were pushed through his abused rim, the whole basketful, all brightly colored and faintly sticky. Each one’s passage brought him slightly closer to orgasm, as did the licks the Easter Bunny gave to his cock, every few eggs. He no longer cared about the indignity or the perversity or the implausibility of his situation; he just wanted to cum. And then finally the Easter Bunny pushed in the last egg, removed the funnel, pushed in some brightly-colored marshmallows “as a buffer” and plugged him with an even larger spice-jellybean egg on a hard candy base; and cum he did, untouched, spraying semen all over the remnants of his clothes and the silly string.

A cup was pressed to his lips; it was more strawberry soda. He drank, not caring about any consequences, whether it was drugged or if it would cause him to need to relieve himself while still tied up.

“The string will dissolve when the process is through, and then you may leave. The soda and chocolate should keep you from needing any nourishment until then. You have already noticed the geas to prevent you from screaming; it will also prevent you from telling anyone of what has occurred. Thank you, human, for agreeing to carry my eggs.”

Agreeing. Sure. Totally. He was still tied up, covered in cum and chocolate and dried soda, with a candy plug in his ass, and still reeling from the most humiliating orgasm of his life. He was never going to be nice to costumed five-year-olds again.

He drowsed in the warm April sun, having nothing else he could do, feeling uncomfortably constipated and slightly itchy from the soda and from the spice candy touching his most intimate parts. Then, suddenly, he awoke. Something was moving within him, and it was about to come out….

**Author's Note:**

> One of my friends changed their tumblr icon to the Teen Titans Go! Easter Bunny and it's super creepy and then somehow this happened. I've never actually seen the show except for a like 2-minute clip about the bunny. Food sex is normally one of my squicks.
> 
> Two things I found out writing this: 1) "Anal Stuffing" isn't actually a major tag, though I've read stuff that involved it before on here, and 2) I have read too much weird creepy shit on asstr (using google to try to keyword search it for my kinks lmao), which is honestly more where this kind of thing belongs.


End file.
